


Trip the Darkness

by LadyFogg



Series: Angel with a Shotgun [10]
Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Language, Sexual Content, Smut, blowjob, shower blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have been going well between you and John, but when Papa Midnite shows up to square his debt, you ignore John’s warnings to stay behind. You join them to investigate a hellmouth, which may have been opened by the Dark Arts Master himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trip the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Song: https://play.spotify.com/track/4an3kONrPMZu3FeXtPlwlo

“Again,” you pant, getting into your defensive stance.

John makes a face but doesn’t complain. He takes a step back, bouncing slightly to get himself in the right mindset before coming at you. His punches are better. He can aim properly and keeps his elbows tucked in. He takes a few swipes to test you, and you block them. But it’s not as easy to block as it used to be. John’s learning how to be patient, how to wait for you to misstep before going for a proper hit.

You both are sweaty from sparring. You’re dressed in leggings and a sports bra, while John is just in a pair of loose-fitting pants. His chest is glistening with sweat and you’re finding it a little distracting. But not enough not to catch his tell. You brace yourself for his swing, except instead of a punch, his arms suddenly come around and he slams you to the ground. You land on your back with a loud “Oof!”

The whole thing happens so fast it’s a little disorientating. John throws his body on top of yours, pinning you to the mat. He smiles, extremely proud of himself. “My point,” he pants.

“Which means we’re tied,” you grin, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Best two out of three?”

“Oh no,” John says, shaking his head. “No no no. This is the closest I’ve gotten since we started this last month. I’ll take a tie over losing.”

“What if we make it interesting?” you ask with a quirk of your eyebrow.

John moves so he’s straddling your waist. “How interesting?” he asks, instantly on board. You knew that would get him.

You stare up at him and a wave of desire comes over you. He looks disheveled and sweaty, and vaguely post-coital. What you wouldn't give to have him drag your leggings off and have his way with you. He would do it too if you asked. But your competitive side takes over.

He smirks at you as he feels your sexual desire replaced with determination.

“Well obviously sex related,” you say, earning a chuckle from your partner. “Whoever wins gets the sex act of their choice.”

“Conditions?” John inquires.

“No butt stuff.”

“Well then what’s the point?”

You smack him in the chest and he bats your hands away with a laugh. “Fuck off,” you say, trying to shove him off of you.

“Alright, alright, love, fine,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gets off your lap. “One more round then.” He gets to his feet with a slight wince. He reaches out to offer you a hand up but you sweep your leg, sending him crashing to the floor. “BLOODY HELL!”

You crawl over him with a grin. “I wi--” Before you can finish he wraps his legs around your waist and spins you so you’re pinned to the mat again. You weren’t expecting him to recover so quickly. Looks like the joke’s on you. “Well, shit.”

John grins. “I win!” he exclaims.

You smile at his excitement. “Yeah, I guess you do,” you say, propping yourself on your elbows. “What unspeakable dirty act would you have me perform?”

John scrunches his face pretending to think, but he doesn’t have to. You already know what he wants before he says it. It's what he always wants from you. “Your mouth,” he says, fixing you with a smoldering look as he leans in closer. “Your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock.”

You smirk and also lean in, your mouth brushing against his. “Fine,” you say. When he tries to kiss you, you pull back. “But not right now. You’re sweaty and that’s not my jam.”

“Then let’s finish this in the shower,” John suggests. He moves to stand but pauses. “You’re not going to knock me down again are you?”

You laugh and wiggle out from under him so you can stand first. He grins and follows you. “Plus side to this relationship,” John says. “is access to your fantastic body on a daily basis.”

“Yup, that’s the only plus side,” you say with an eyeroll. “My naked lady bits.”

“Well, you do have amazing lady bits. And it's also nice to have hot meals even when Chas isn't here,” John teases.

“Great,” you say in a deadpanned voice. “I'm good for fucking and making sure you don't starve to death. Forget emotional support and companionship.”

John throws his arm around your shoulders. “That other stuff is good too.”

“You're a jackass.”

“Ahh but I'm your jackass, love.”

“Shit, that's true. I suppose there isn't a return policy, huh?” you joke as you enter the bedroom.

John shakes his head, his smirk almost prideful. “Can't say there is. Super magical connection and all.” His arm slips from your shoulders as you move to get undressed. John goes to his dresser to grab a cigarette.

“Damn,” you tease.

Not that you would want to give him up. Despite dragging you back from Heaven and the black magic incident. And really anytime he decides to be a giant bag of dicks. What does it say about you that after all that you choose to stay? Probably that you’re really messed up and need help. But knowing John is equally, if not more, messed up is somewhat of a comfort. Even if you drive each other crazy half the time.

“It means you love him.”

You whirl around and find Zed instead of John. “Oh he is going to be so pissed.” It's the first time she's ever taken control of him. Which kind of worries you. “What's wrong?”

“Why do you think something is wrong?” Zed asks.

“Because you’re possessing John, which means you can’t wait until I’m by myself to talk to me,” you say, staring at her intensely. “What’s wrong?”

“Despite the monsters you’ve been taking out, the veil is still incredibly thin,” Zed says. “It's taking longer to heal than we anticipated. There are still problems with magic. If John keeps--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” you tell her, putting your hand up for silence. “Enough, alright? Enough about John and the dark arts. I don’t want to hear it from you anymore. Do I have my doubts? Yes. Do I have my own worries? Yes. I don’t need you continually beating me over the head with it.”

“I’m just trying to help you,” Zed says firmly. “I know you’re too close to him to see.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you tell her. “Not anymore at least. That person I was in Heaven is not who I am right now. She didn’t go through what I’ve been though the last few months. I brought it up to John, we talked about it so now we’re moving on. End of discussion. Just drop it.”

“You trust him completely after all he’s done?” Zed asks. “How? How can you? Even knowing what happens to the people who put their trust in him.”

“Yeah, I trust him, because that’s what you do in a relationship. You learn to trust each other. Though I never said that I trust him completely, but I’d like to think he trusts me too. And yeah, I do know what happens to people who put their trust in him. They die. Been there, done that. Didn’t really stick,” you say. “I have my suspicions and I have my doubts. I will keep an eye on him in my own way. I don’t need someone whispering in my ear the same concerns I have running through my head each night. I don’t need it, Zed.”

“I’m sorry,” Zed apologizes. “I really am. I worry about him. I always have, and I always will. I’m tired of him making the same mistakes over and over again.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” you tell her. “He is who he is Zed. I lost sight of that for awhile and I’m working hard to remember it. You should too. We can do everything in our power, but in the end it’s going to come down to John’s choices, and consequences.”

Zed remains staring at you for a few minutes before she sighs and runs a hair through her wild hair. “I’ll keep my distance then,” she says. “You do what you have to do, and I will do what I have to. But if things go wrong, call me. Okay?”

You give her a nod and then, she’s gone and John’s left standing in the middle of the room with a frown. “What just happened?” he asks. “I feel weird.”

“Zed,” you say.

“Oh that bloody--wait, why was Zed here?” John asks.

You wave your hand. “Her usual meddling,” you say. “Don’t worry about it. I scared her off.”

John gives you a carefully guarded look. You pretend not to notice as you resume getting undressed. You shimmy out of your gross leggings and pull your sports bra off. As soon as you’re standing there in only your underwear, John gets distracted and you feel his suspicion go away as lust takes priority. You push your underwear down and kick them off to the side before heading towards the shower. John follows close behind.

The water is cool, but you don’t mind because your skin is heated from sparring. You let the spray wash over you as you close your eyes and bask in the wonderful feeling. John joins you under the water, lips and teeth finding your shoulder as he nips playfully. You chuckle and lean into the touch. “What do you want to do after this?” you ask.

“Eat,” John says instantly. “Bloody starving. Figured after that we’d just wing it.”

“That’s what we always seem to be doing,” you say with a sigh, leaning your head back so it rests against John’s shoulder. “Just winging it.”

You have been realizing you and John have been stuck in an infinite loop of training and monster hunting.

“Is that a problem?” John inquires, hands resting on your hips.

“No, just my way of saying we’re in a rut,” you tell him. “Not that I mind. It’s nice to have some semblance of stability after everything that’s happened.”

“You’re getting antsy,” John realizes.

You can feel his apprehension and you realize he’s worried about what that might mean. You turn in his arms so you’re facing him. “Just of being here for so long. Now that we have this connection handled and we’ve been training, I feel like we need to do something else. Take a hunting break and just...go somewhere.”

“We?” John asks raising his eyebrow.

“Yes, ‘we’,” you say. “What do you say? Vacation? Soon? My treat.”

John chuckles and leans in for a kiss. “You and me taking a trip with no mission attached to it? Aye, I can get behind that.”

The thought makes you happy, especially since getting John away from work and the Mill House means getting him to lay off magic for a little while. It’s a win-win for everyone. You pull away from him so you can start washing up. He finishes before you and sits on the shower seat as you wash your hair.

You feel the air shift as his sexual appetite takes center stage. You can hear him stroking himself as he watches the shampoo suds run down your body. You smirk and stretch slightly, arching your back as you turn around so you're facing him. Your eyes are still closed but you can feel his steely gaze.

He drinks in the sight of your wet tits hungrily and you hear him let out a small moan of longing.

Once you're finished rinsing out your hair, you open your eyes. His hand is gripping his cock firmly and he beckons you forward with a nod.

You practically slink towards him, sliding your hand through his wet hair as you pull his head back for a kiss. With your free hand you reach down to take over his ministrations. He gasps into your mouth as you stroke him firmly.

You trail your kisses along his jaw and he turns his head eagerly, presenting his neck to you. You drag your teeth across the expansion of skin and bite down. He groans when you do.

“You make such delectable noises,” you purr against his neck. “I like when my partners sing for me.”

“Bloody impossible not to,” he mumbles, hand coming up to weave into your hair. “Especially when I can just feel that carnal craving coming from you. Feels like you're going to just swallow me whole.”

You chuckle. “Wasn't that the deal?” You continue your kisses along his collarbone and down his chest, still keeping up the firm strokes along his cock.

He grins. “That it was, love,” he says.

You drop to your knees and the hand in your hair automatically flexes with anticipation. You lean forward and swipe your tongue across the head of his cock. He groans again and his hips twitch eagerly. You glance up to see him watching you intently.

You wrap your lips completely around the head and a lazy smile spreads across his face. You stop stroking him and instead hold him still so you can let your mouth slowly take him in.

He whimpers at the pace and if it wasn't for your arms leaning heavily on his thighs, he probably would have buried himself completely inside your mouth already. But he can't. So he remains as still as possible, watching you draw back ever so slowly. When you unexpectedly drop down and swallow around him, he swears.

“ _Fuck, love_ ,” he says, voice thick and heavy. You set a slow pace because there really is no reason to rush. He's been training hard with minimal complaints. He deserves a little special attention.

You keep eye contact with him the entire time. You grip his cock firmly at the base, cheeks hollowing as you suck harder.

He swears again, finally breaking eye contact as he leans back against the tile wall. “Your mouth is bloody magical,” he coos. “Your tongue is just sinful.”

You let up a little on his thighs so he can thrust into your mouth. When he does, you hum around him, earning a loud gasp. The hand in your hair begins to direct your movements. You let him, going along with the quicker pace you can sense he wants.

When you need to catch your breath, you pull back so just your lips are wrapped around his tip and you swirl your tongue in a circle.

John's eyes snap open and his head drops forward to look at you again. You raise your eyebrow and smirk around his cock and he bites his lip.

His free hand comes out to also slide into your hair and he begins to carefully fuck your mouth.

You try to shut your eyes and lose yourself in the task at hand, but John urges, “No, no, no. Let me me see those gorgeous eyes.”

Your eyelids flicker open and you meet his stare. He groans louder. “I'm going to come, love.”

You take him in as deep as you can and when the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, he comes completely undone.

You swallow what you can, but some escapes and slides down the corner of your mouth and down your chin.

John slumps back against the wall as he lets you go. You let his softening cock slip from your mouth and the shower washes away the evidence of his release.

Your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath. But then John’s guiding you until you’re seated in his lap. He kisses you hungrily, hand cupping your tit firmly as his thumb grazes your nipple.

When he draws back to look at you, his gaze is so loving and intense it makes your heart thump wildly in your chest.

He wants to say the words. You can feel it and more importantly, you want to hear him say them. But he doesn't. Instead he pats your thigh affectionately.

“More than willing to return the favor,” he grins. “Don't think I'm going to just leave you unsatisfied.”

You smile back. “Later,” you say. “The water’s cold. We should get out.”

John nods in agreement and reaches around you to turn the shower off. You both get out and wrap towels around yourselves.

You dress in comfortable silence. John goes for a cigarette when he's done while you leave the room and head to the kitchen.

“So, any requests for dinner?” you call over your shoulder to John as you descend the stairs to the main room. You miss his response however as you find the living room isn’t empty. Papa Midnite stands by the fireplace, examining the mirror with curious eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Lola,” Papa Midnite says. “Where is Constantine?”

Before you can answer, you hear John. “And after, dessert’s on me...in a manner of speaking.”

You close your eyes with a heavy sigh, almost missing Papa Midnite’s unamused glare. John notices him as soon as he hits the stairs however. You can feel John’s guard immediately go up and annoyance hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Ever hear of a phone?” John snaps at Midnite as he comes to a stop behind you.

“Ugh, I’m not dealing with this,” you say, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I’m going to get dinner started. You two hash this out.”

You start to move towards the kitchen, but Midnite comes around the couch to intercept you. “I’ve come to check on your soul,” he says, eyeing you with his piercing stare. “I must admit, I was not expecting you to still be here with this…”

“Watch it,” John says warningly, descending the rest of the stairs.

“...man,” Midnite finishes instead.

“Yeah, I’m still with him,” you say. “Is that the only reason why you’re here? To check on me?”

“Among other things,” Midnite says. He reaches towards you. “May I?”

“Er, yeah I guess,” you say, staying still.

He gently takes your face in his hands and starts to examine you. You can feel John’s jealousy and it actually makes you smirk. He can be such a child. Emotionally and magically connected to you, in a relationship to boot and he’s jealous the voodoo master who restored your soul is touching your face.

“Get over it, Constantine,” you say.

“I didn’t say anything,” John says, coming to stand next to you.

“You didn’t have to,” Midnite answers for you. “It’s all over your face. My intentions are purely innocent. Besides, your woman is more than capable of handling herself.”

“I’m also not his woman,” you say, narrowing your eyes at Midnite. “I’m my own woman, thank you very much.”

“I see the connection has strengthened and cemented itself since we last spoke,” Midnite says. “I’m curious as the extent of this magic.”

“What do you mean, ‘cemented itself’?” you ask curiously. “I thought it was always permanent.”

“There are no guarantees in life,” Midnite says. “I merely meant that you are grounded to this life permanently so if the connection fails, you will not return to Heaven. At least not without a natural cause of death.”

“Didn’t realize either of those things were risks,” you say.

“Neither did I,” John says angrily. “If I had, I would have avoided the Jinn.”

“Not to worry. Her soul has been cemented for some time. Also, Jinn aren’t nearly powerful enough to destroy such a connection,” Midnite says. “Only deep, old magic could. And of course the person who put it there.”

“Great, so you,” you say, pulling back from Midnite and batting his hand away. “You know, I’m really tired of people keeping shit from me. Especially when I’m directly involved.”

“You couldn’t have come all this way to just check on Lola,” John says. “What do you want?”

“You have a debt to me, John Constantine,” Midnite says, eyes sliding over to meet the blond’s. “And I’ve come to collect.”

John’s face hardens and you can’t help but ask, “Wait, what debt?”

“The debt I agreed to pay if he helped me bring you back,” John says. “And as I recall, the stipulation to that was that you leave Lola out of it.”

“And I am,” Midnite says. “But you must come with me. We don’t have much time.”

“Hold up,” you say, stepping between John and Midnite. “He’s not going anywhere without me. And neither of us are coming with you until you tell us what’s going on.”

“Lola,” John says, sidestepping you. “It’s alright. I can handle whatever Midnite has to throw at me.”

“I’m aware of that, babe,” you say. “That’s not being called into question.”

“We do not have time for this childish back and forth,” Midnite says in his booming voice. “I need your help, Constantine, to close a hellmouth.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” you say.

“Are you saying there is an open hellmouth?” John asks. “Where and how?”

“I don’t know how,” Midnite says. “And I don’t know if it’s completely open. But if we find it and seal it, I believe it will help the veil strengthen again.”

“Do you know where it is?” John asks.

Midnite fixes him with a stern look. “Where you killed the angel.”

John's jaw clenches tightly.

“Why there?” you ask.

“It was the site of a large surge of magic and a terrible deed,” Midnite says. “That is where the veil first weakened.”

“And you think that's what opened the hellmouth,” you say.

“No,” Midnite says, shaking his head. “Someone opened it. I do know who or why.”

“God fucking damn it!” you swear. “Can we not go a fucking few months without someone trying to open Hell? Why is that even a fucking thing?”

John is suspiciously quiet for a few moments before he clears his throat. “Alright,” he says to Midnite. “Let me just grab some food and some supplies and we'll head out.”

“Do what you need to prepare,” Midnite says. “This will not be an easy task.”

John gives his a slight nod before moving past him, towards the kitchen. You follow him.

“Okay, plan?” you ask.

“The plan is, I go with Midnite and you stay here,” John says, opening the refrigerator.

“Yeah that's not going to happen in a million years,” you tell him. “I'm not letting you do this alone.”

“Lola, it's not up for negotiation,” John says as he grabs several food items without even looking at them. You realize he plans to eat on the road. It becomes obvious when he throws the items into a paper bag.

“And yet here I am, negotiating,” you tell him. “Oh wait, no you're right. No negotiating. Because I'm fucking coming with you. End of discussion.”

John is too wound up to fight you and though you can feel his determination on the subject he relents. “Fine, I don't have time to argue. I need to get my things.”

He steps around you and heads back towards the staircase. His leather bag is in the bedroom, but you aren't worried about him sneaking away without you because you have a direct view of the only exit. You follow as far as the couches before you sigh and watch him disappear upstairs.

Midnite is eyeing you curiously. “I cannot fathom why you love this man,” he says.

“You and me both, dude,” you say, grabbing your jacket off one of the couches.

“Have you told him?” Midnite inquires. “Your feelings, that is.”

“Yeah-well, no...sort of,” you say. “Okay, I may have said it without actually saying it.”

“But he must feel it with your connection,” Midnite says. “Why deny or hide it?”

“It's complicated,” you tell him.

“For who? You or him?”

“Both...what are you, my therapist? Hop off!” you say with annoyance. You tug your jacket on impatiently. The last thing you need right now is to be schooled in emotions by a voodoo master and frenemy of your partner. John calls for you and you shoot Midnite a glare before leaving to see what your partner wants. You stop by the armory along the way, grabbing your shotgun.

When you enter the bedroom, John is busy going through his bag. “What do you need?” you ask. The blond man sighs and rubs his face tiredly. He suddenly looks a decade older. You cross the room worriedly. “Hey, hey, it's alright.”

“It will be,” John says with a weak smile. “So long as you stay safe.”

“We're safer together,” you remind him, putting the shotgun on the bed.

He slides his arms around you and pulls you into a kiss. You kiss him back, pressing your body tantalizing against him. You know he loves it when you do that and you’ll do anything you can to briefly take his mind off the latest crisis. He gently pushes you until you're lying on the bed. Though you know Midnite is waiting, you grin into the kiss. He can wait a little longer while you and John take care of each other first.

John climbs on top of you, diving in for another kiss as his hands travel along your waist, over your breasts and up your arms. On hand closes around your left wrist as the other cups your cheek. You moan as he trails his kisses to your neck, nipping at his initials. The hand around your wrist squeezes you for a moment, almost too tightly. Before you can question him, you hear a click.

John pulls away and you try to move, only to find yourself handcuffed to the bed.

“Ummm...what are you doing?” you ask as you sit up.

“Lola,” John says, closing his bag and taking a few steps out of your reach. “You have to stay. I'm sorry.”

You give a snort of laughter. “John, you know I can phase out of these,” you remind him. But when you activate your rune and try to pull your wrist free, nothing happens. You frown and try again. Still nothing.

“Yeah, not with these, lass,” John says as he scoops his trenchcoat off the dresser. “Call them an early birthday present. One we will enjoy in full when I return.”

“You can't just leave me here!” you exclaim, struggling to free yourself. “John, we're more powerful together! Don't be stupid!”

“You know me, love,” John says with a smirk. “I do stupid in spades.” He blows you a kiss before purposely turning his back on you and heading out the door.

“John! JOHN! Constantine, you asshole! GET BACK HERE!”

You feel him moving through the Mill House and out the front door. You tug on the handcuffs harder. Gripping the cuff, you press your fingers together as tightly as possible and try to slip free. It doesn't work. The cuff is too tight, and short of breaking your thumb you can’t shake it off. Blind panic sets in when you realize this is really happening. John is leaving you behind. You can sense him getting into Midnite’s car.

“No! No no no no no no. I will NOT be left here!” You keep struggling against the handcuffs. “Mother fucker! I can’t believe he fucking handcuffed me to the fucking bed. Trying to play the fucking hero while I sit and wait for him at home. Fuck that shit. I’m going to beat him within an inch of his life when I get out of here!”

You twist your body around to plant your feet firmly against the headboard. Grabbing the chain with both hands, you pull on the metal at the same time you kick. If you can just break the wood you can free yourself and catch up to them before they get too far. Already they’ve left the driveway and as you try to stay focused on John, you suddenly lose his presence. Bastard shut you out! Oh you are going to kill him.

The wood doesn’t break. Swearing some more, you look around, trying to find something else to aid you. You instantly grab your shotgun.

You get a good grip on the gun with your right hand, balancing it as best as you can as you aim for where the cuff rests around the headboard. You try to steady yourself, letting out a slow breath before pulling the trigger. Due to the awkward angle, the kickback is more than you’re used to and you fall backwards off the bed.

Choking on dust and woodchips, you shakily get to your feet. The cuff around your wrist is intact, but the headboard (and wall) are a mess. Oh well. Desperate times.

You hurry to get to your car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you scramble for the keys and slide them into the ignition. But the car doesn’t turn on. You glance down to see a tangle of broken wires at your feet. “That son of a bitch! AHHHH!” You scream and beat the steering wheel angrily. “ZED! Zed, get down here right now!”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Cut the sass!” you snap at Zed. She’s sitting in the passenger seat next to you, looking calm and collected. You want to punch her right in her pretty face. “Shit, shit, shit. They’re getting away! Okay, what do I do? Fuck. Any suggestions would be welcomed! Don’t just fucking sit there and stare at me!”

Zed sighs “I’m going to get shit for this,” she mutters. She reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

Before you can ask her what the hell she’s talking about, your world spins and suddenly you find yourself in the backseat of Midnite’s car with your shotgun resting across your lap. Zed is next to you, hand still on your shoulder as a smirk crosses her face. You can’t help but smirk back.

“She is going to hurt you when you return to her,” Midnite is saying.

“Oh I am fully aware,” John says. “But it’s for her own good.”

“Except for the part where you don’t get to decide that,” you snap.

John jumps about a foot off his seat while Midnite jerks the steering wheel in surprise. The car swerves dangerously as he tries to right it. Thanks to Zed’s hand, you remain perfectly still, your arms crossed.

“WHERE THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU COME FROM?!” John explodes, his hands gripping the dashboard tightly as Midnite continues to try to steady the car.

“I brought her,” Zed tells him, making her presence known.

John whips his head around and lets out a huff of annoyance. “Of course you decide to act now,” he says.

“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Zed asks with narrowed eyes.

John glares darkly at her as you and Midnite turn your gaze on him. Zed gives him a pointed look before she disappears. You’re not even mad about it this time, too focused on waiting for John’s answer. He swears under his breath.

“Tell me what?” you ask.

“What do you know about this hellmouth?” Midnite throws in.

John sighs heavily and reaches into his pocket, drawing out a cigarette. “I think I may have unwittingly opened it,” he says, tucking the end between his lips.

Purely on instinct, you reach into the front and start hitting every bit of John you can reach as he shouts and tries to defend himself from your attacks.

“Stupid...fucking...asshole...messing...with...shit...you...can’t...control!”

“Stop! LOLA!” John exclaims, but you don’t stop. You keep going.

“WHY DID YOU FUCKING TRY TO OPEN A HELLMOUTH?!”

Midnite uses one of his large hands to block the blows aimed at John. “Enough!” he snaps in his commanding voice. “Lola you will control your anger. We do not have time for this. And you--” He shoots another glare at John. “Explain yourself, John Constantine.”

“It wasn’t on purpose, you bloody lunatics,” John says adjusting his coat and trying to locate the cigarette you made him drop. “It was while I was trying to restore your soul. The veil was thin in that area. I thought I could use it to bring...to get you back.”

“What made you think you could do such a thing on your own?” Midnite asks.

“I may have been drunk.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaim, burying your face in your hands. “This cannot be happening. We’re all going to die because of this alcoholic asshole.”

“Oy, I’ll make it right,” John says, turning around in his seat to fully face you. “Lola, I will fix this.”

You can’t help but feel there’s more he’s not telling you. He’s still blocking you out, so aside from a strong sense of guilt, you feel nothing else from him. It was a lot of work to bring you back and he only managed with Midnite’s help. But who knows what he may have messed with before that. While you are somewhat flattered, you don’t know if you necessarily believe that saving you was his only intention.

“Let’s just get there and deal with it,” you tell him, moving to clip your seat belt in. “You’re lucky Zed decided to bend the rules. We must be royally fucked if that’s the case.”

“My thoughts exactly,” John says.

“What do we do when we get there?” you ask.

“I won’t know until we arrive,” Midnite explains. “I’m not sure if it’s partially or fully open. If it’s partially open, we may have to open it fully before we shut it completely.”

“You know, I take back what I said about magic in the past,” you say. “It fucking sucks.”

“Magic’s not the problem,” John says. “It’s the intention behind it.”

His voice sounds guarded. Since you can’t feel what he’s going through, you have to use your imagination. It’s not a stretch to figure out what’s bothering him. Yet another major problem caused by his actions. Despite the anger you still harbor, you reach over and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He glances at it briefly before he lights his cigarette and slips the lighter back into his pocket. After he takes a drag, he reaches up to pat your hand in appreciation.

The rest of the drive is done in silence.

When you pull into a large parking lot, you’re actually confused. A hellmouth in a shopping center parking lot? The parking lot has been blocked off with concrete dividers and looks abandoned. You crane your neck slightly and are able to see a large crater several feet away from the dividers. Dusk is settling in and aside from the lights of Midnite’s car, darkness is all around you.

“How is this crater just here? Is this new?” you ask John.

“No,” he answers as Midnite slows the car to a stop. “Manny did it. When he released the darkness. On the day we first met. I should have bloody known back then. If I had...” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

The three of you get out of the car and Midnite goes for the trunk while you ready your shotgun. John comes to stand at your side, leather bag in hand.

“So are you going to tell me what you were really doing here?” you ask.

“I told you, I was trying to bring you back,” John says.

“Maybe you were,” you say. “But that wasn’t the only thing, was it?”

John doesn’t answer. His grip on his bag tightens before he walks towards the dividers. You sigh heavily and follow him. The crater is even more intimidating up close. John offers you a hand over the divider, which you graciously accept. Carefully, you both inch close to the ledge to look down. All you see is black.

“How do we know if it’s open?” you ask.

“It’ll make it known,” John says, scanning the area for signs of danger. “Trust me.”

Just as he says this, there’s a demonic screeching sound before something big with wings flies up towards you. You point your gun at it and fire. The shot hits the demon right between the eyes and it falls back down into the abyss. As it does, there’s a crackling sound as the body disappears through a portal, consumed by flames and electricity before disappearing completely.

“Well that answers that question,” you say.

John’s jaw clenches tightly as he turns to shout at Midnite. “Better hurry up, mate. It’s sending friends.”

Midnite comes to your side, his own bag in his hand. “We must move quickly,” he says, putting the bag on the ground. He opens it and starts to pull out a myriad of items, including a shrunken head.

“What’s your assessment?” John asks.

“It’s indeed only partially open,” Midnite says. “That creature had to scrape its way through, which is why we haven’t seen more of them. If it were fully open, we would not be able to stand here.”

“So we’ll do what we said before. Open it all the way to close it,” John says.

“I really don’t like the sound of that,” you say. “Why do we have to open it more? Why can you just, I don’t know, force it closed?”

“Because it being partially opened means I didn’t finish the first ritual,” John says. “It’s incomplete. Doing the closing ritual may backfire. We finish my original ritual and then do the closing one.”

“Do I even want to know how?” you ask.

John extends his hand towards you. “Give me your knife.”

You reach into your jacket pocket and draw the blade out, handing it to your partner. He slices his palm along the scar, reopening it. You try not to react as you feel the skin of your own hand burn from the sensation. Instead you take your knife back and wait. John closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he starts to chant. The hair on the back of your neck stands straight up.

You watch him close his hand and extend it over the crater, letting the blood drip down into the darkness. He pulls you away with him as everything stills for a moment, before fire erupts from the depths of the hole and screeching fills the air.

“Now, we have to--” Midnite doesn’t get to finish his thought. John punches him hard, knocking him out instantly. He collapses to the ground.

“John! What the fuck?!” you exclaim, raising your gun at him.

“Lola, we can’t close it yet,” John urges. He drops to his knees and starts digging through his leather bag.

“Why not?! We can’t just leave it open!” you tell him.

“Not yet! This may be my only chance,” John says. You’ve never seen him so frantic before. In that instant his wards slip and you’re hit full force with waves of emotions. You can’t focus as the onslaught it too much for you to handle.

“John, I swear to god if you don’t tell me what the fuck you’re talking about I will shoot out your knee cap. Magical connection be damned!” you snap, cocking your gun.

“Lola,” John says, looking up at you wide eyes. “This is my last chance to find my mother.”

Understanding hits you like a ton of bricks and you’re momentarily too stunned to speak. This whole time. He’s been strengthening your connection hoping he could use it to bring her back. If he brought you back, he thinks he can save her. Nausea settles in the pit of your stomach and you fight the urge to throw up. You should have known. Why didn’t you put the pieces together?

John continues to dig through his bag, but whatever he’s looking for, he can’t seem to find. You drop to your knees in front of him, putting the gun on the ground.

“John, John, look at me,” you speak softly, reaching out to grab his arms. “Please stop. This isn’t going to work.”

“Yes it will,” John says. “The hellmouth is open. You and I are powerful enough to do it. I know we can. You’re living proof that it can be done.”

“John, listen to me,” you say. You grab his face between your hands and forcing him to meet your eye. “It’s not going to work. You aren’t going to find your mom.”

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t want to be found.”

He blinks for a moment, eyes searching yours as he processes the meaning of your words. He jerks himself away from you. “And how do you bloody know that?” he asks, face hardening as he glares.

“Because she told me,” you confess. “When I got to Heaven. She was there waiting for me.”

John’s mouth falls open slightly as words fail him. He slowly rises to his feet and you do the same. “You-You met her?” he asks.

You nod hesitantly. “Yeah,” you say. “She visited me every couple of days. John, she knows you’ve been looking for her and she wishes you would stop. She’s in Heaven. She’s at peace. She doesn’t want to come back. She wants you to let her go.”

John runs his hands through his hair as he starts to pace. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks. You can feel a plethora of emotions radiating off him. Anger. Resentment. Sadness. The latter is overwhelming and you can feel yourself starting to cry, but you hold back the tears.

“I tried,” you say. “When I got back. On the couch. I tried to tell you. But you didn’t want to hear it.”

John lets out a shout of anger and you have no doubt he would have punched a wall if there was one nearby.

“Lola--” he begins.

The ground trembles dangerously, bringing you back to the present with a sickening jolt. A deafening roar makes you clap your hands over your ears and the ground shakes again. Something is trying to claw it’s way out. You can’t see it through the electric flames, but you can sure as hell hear it.

“Look, now is not the time to talk about this,” you tell him. You point to the hellmouth. “Right now, we have to close this thing. Before whatever is making those noises comes after us! How do we close it?”

John stares at the crater, his face a filled with hard lines and determination. “Flesh and blood,” he says. “We need flesh and blood.” He glances at you for a moment, before taking several purposeful steps towards the portal.

“John, don’t!” you shout, following him.

“I have to,” John says. “The alternative is you. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Yes, let it happen!” you tell him. “I’ll make the sacrifice. I shouldn’t even be here right now. I should be dead.”

“Sorry, love,” John shakes his head. “You can’t save me. Not this time.”

“Why? Why not this time?” you ask, grabbing his arm to keep him from continuing any further. “What happened to the John Constantine who was all for self-preservation? What about the John Constantine who took a demon into himself so he wouldn’t die? What happened to him?”

John sighs as he turns to you. His hands slide into your hair as he pulls you into a bruising kiss. You kiss him back urgently, arms coming around his neck as you pour all your feelings and emotions into the action. You let all your wards down. Let him feel every little emotion that you’re going through, because he has to. He has to feel just how much it will kill you to lose him. Not again. Not after everything you’ve been through together.  

When he pulls back slightly, his breath ghosts across your lips. “He fell in love,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “And bloody hell do I love you, woman. That’s why I have to do this. That’s why I can’t let you make the sacrifice.”

“I know, I know you love me,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you bask in feeling he finally put into words. The words you know he’s wanted to say for awhile. The ones you also wanted to say but just couldn’t bring yourself to, waiting for the right moment. Well, there’s no better time than when you’re staring into the mouth of hell itself. “And god, John, I love you too. Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’m John Constantine,” he says with a forced smirk. “I’ll be back.”

No he won’t. At least there are no guarantees. He knows it. You know it.

He gives you another kiss before detaching your arms from around his neck. You let him step away from you, hand sliding down his arm to take his hand one last time. At least, he thinks it’s one last time. As soon as his hand is in yours, your chain tattoo slides out from under the handcuff to wrap itself firmly around his wrist. He doesn’t notice until he tries to pull away and you come with him.

“You just had to say the words,” you say. “Didn't you.”

He looks down at your connected hands before looking up at you. “Lola, no,” he says firmly, with a hint of desperation. “The hellmouth only needs one sacrifice to close it. And I honestly don’t know if death awaits, or worse.”

“Well then it’ll get a two for one deal,” you say, moving to stand next to him. “Look, you sacrificed yourself to save the world, I sacrificed myself to make sure you got to live. Things still went to shit. Clearly neither of us should be making decisions alone. I think it’s safe to say that we’re utterly hopeless without each other. And like you said, we don’t know if death or something else is waiting. What I do know is that if I lose you, I won’t feel complete, and joined our magic has a better chance of getting us through this. So fuck the hero’s sacrifice. We do this together. Your way. Self-preservation for the win. In a manner of speaking.”

He’s shocked to say the least. You can tell he never expected you to stand by his side. Not after what he’s done, not everything he’s put you through. He looks between you and the hellmouth and doesn’t say anything at first. Slowly you feel his fingers link with yours and a wave of acceptance washes over you.

He looks back at you and a small smile finds its way across his face. “Alright, love,” he says with a nod. “Count of three, then?”

“Wait.” You bend down to scoop up your shotgun and slip the strap over your shoulder. John takes note and grabs his leather bag. You give his hand a squeeze. “Just in case. Count of three.”

John lifts your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles before he faces the hellmouth once more. He takes a few steps towards it and you do the same until you’re both standing right on the edge. Below you, demonic screams and faces mock you through the flames.

“One…” he says.

“Two…” you say.

You look at each other and share another nod. “Three.”

You both shut your eyes and jump.

\--

Chas closes the last box of his stuff and looks around with a sigh. The rest of his belongings are already loaded into the cab. He hears footsteps on the stairs and looks up to see Renee descending. “Is that it?” she asks.

Chas nods. “Yeah, yeah this is it.” He glances up at the mirror above the fireplace and his heart aches as John and Lola come into view. They are having a heated discussion about something. He’s not sure what. But it’s not angry. In fact they’re both excited. He doesn’t remember the conversation, so he assumes it happened when he wasn’t there. He misses them. He misses them so damn much.

Renee looks to see what he’s staring at and while she’s clearly confused at the magical object, she doesn’t voice it. Instead she slides her arm around him and draws him in close. “I wish I could have met her,” she says. “She seemed like she kept John on his toes.”

“On his back actually,” Chas smirks at his own joke. John would have been proud of him. “She would have liked you. Maybe a little too much.”

Renee chuckles. “Come on, Francis,” she says, gently tugging his arm. “Geraldine’s been texting me asking when we’re heading out.”

Chas nods. “Yeah, coming,” he says, turning his back on the mirror to follow his estranged wife up the stairs with the box of his stuff. “There’s just one stop I have to make.”

Renee doesn’t question him.

They finish loading up the cab before walking through the woods and to the little clearing by the lake. There were no bodies to bury, but Chas still insisted on a proper funeral. The coffins are empty, but seeing the gravestones helps a little. Lola’s original grave had been repurposed for the Jane Doe John had buried in her place last year. At Lola’s insistence of course. She had even tracked down the girl’s proper name.

Papa Midnite had told Chas everything that happened. How he saw them jump as he was regaining consciousness. How the hellmouth swallowed them both hungrily. Their screams. And then eerie silence.

Chas places a few flowers between the graves. He doesn’t say anything, having already poured his heart and soul out to them countless times before. This goodbye feels different though. Final. He’s moving back to New York to be with his family, to make things right with them. Now that John is gone, doesn’t really seem necessary to keep hunting.

Renee kneels beside him, arms sliding around him in a comforting hug. “At least they're together,” she says.

“Yeah,” Chas agrees.

If they only knew how right they were.

Down past the dirt, through layers and layers of earth, rock, and magma, John Constantine stands on the precipice of a massive pit, cigarette dangling from his lips as he takes in the view. Behind him, a strangled cry is drowned out by the sound of a shotgun blast. John doesn’t flinch. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale smoke as he looks over his shoulder.

“Might want to conserve ammo, love.”

You cock your gun and nudge the twisted horror of a demon onto its back so you can make sure it’s really dead. Not that the hole in its skull would suggest otherwise. “Yeah, I know,” you say. “But the bastard wouldn’t stay down.”

You move to stand next to John and carefully look over the edge. It’s a long way down. Even still, the screams of the damned are almost deafening. The path you stand on leads in a downward spiral, all the way to the center of the giant pit. Well, not pit. Hell to be precise. Nine levels of Hell lay below you and though you know you should feel scared, you don’t. Because at least you’re not alone.

Your eyes zero in on the center circle. “What’s that?” you ask John.

“Looks like a castle,” John says, squinting at the black mass. He puts the cigarette back between his lips and throws you a smirk. “Fancy seeing if anyone is home?”

You smirk back and hold your shotgun in one hand as you sling your arm across his shoulders. “Why not?” you say. “It’s not like we have anything else to do. Just one condition. Well, two conditions.”

“Which are?” John asks, sliding his arm around your waist to pull you in close.

“One, take this handcuff off me, it’s starting to chafe.”

John chuckles and touches the metal around your wrist. It loosens instantly and he slips the handcuffs in his pocket. “For later,” he teases with a wink. “What’s the second condition?”

“I take the lead,” you tell him. “Rune magic is going to be our best friend in this place. Plus, I have the big gun.”

“I do love watching you walk. And you know how I love when you take charge,” John grins, taking his cigarette out again so he can lay a large, wet kiss on your cheek.

You shoot him a grin as well and let your hand slip down to slap his ass. “Come on then, baby,” you say. “We have monsters to slay. And Hell to explore.”

“After you, my love,” John says as he gestures to the path in front of him.

You take the cigarette away from his mouth so you can give him a proper kiss and he responds enthusiastically, hands giving your hips a brief squeeze before you pull away. You slide the end of the cigarette into your mouth and turn to walk away. You glance over your shoulder to see John tilt his head slightly, admiring the view for a moment before his eyes meet yours.

“Now aren’t you glad I came?” you say, facing forward again.

“I must say, the view is much improved with you here,” John says.

Your laugh is drowned out by the terrible noises around you, and though you and John are trapped in Hell with nothing but magic and your shotgun, you’re glad you’re together. Because you’re stronger as a pair, and not even Hell itself stands a chance.  

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates: ladyfogg.tumblr.com
> 
> Follow my side blog for John Constantine screen caps: johnconstantinescreencaps.tumblr.com


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